“As funny as the thought of Julia being held at gun point is, no. I’m not kidding. They kids are alright though, and I did inform the cops that she was missing. It's only a matter of time, Jack. I'm just as frantic as you are, though. But she's Julia, she'll show up.”
Fury bubbled inside me as I resisted the urge to shove saline down Brady’s throat. He already had enough explaining that he had to do. Now this?
“Stand over there,” I demanded, through gritted teeth.
“Why?”
“You’re cursed or something. I don’t want you next to me. Don’t even breathe in my direction.”
Brady proceeded to slowly sink down on my hospital bed. I’d suffered just a simple choke to the neck. She was close to crushing my wind pipe, but it was if she wanted to watch me go slowly. I casted a tempered glance at Brady, who raised his eyebrows in response. “I swear to God, Brady, I’ll rip your goddamn head off if you don’t move.”
“You said I was cursed,” He answered carefully, breaking our shared line of vision with each other to stare blankly at a hung picture. Under his feet, Sarge stirred. He’d thrown a fit earlier about being unable to lay in bed next to me. His fit was short lasted though as he’d finally settled down for a nap. Almost carefully, Brady added, “Have you ever considered...that you were the one cursed, Jack?”
“What the hell are you getting at?”
Brady stole a clear cup of water off of my night stand, inspected it, then brought it to his lips. “Your father and I...”
“Oh for Christ sakes. Couldn’t you have told me this crap when I hated you less?”
“...We drove a lot. The other day, you know. He...He drove us to this barn. Well, I was driving of course, but he was giving me directions. It was...quite a drive. Pretty long. Anyways, man, so we got there. And we sat down and he told me all those stories he used to tell you...Then he started showing me old T.V. reports and newspaper clips...you know, from before our time, about those terrorist attacks. Then he showed me this box with pictures...”
“Did a yeti give it to him?”
Brady’s far away, almost dreamy look, vanished with my snarky comment. He narrowed his eyes, resisting the urge to shake his head at me. “Okay. Okay, you know what, fine. You don’t want to hear it.” He raised his hands in surrender, palms up, and stood, pacing across the tiled ground. With his back to me, he added, “But a girl picking you up by the throat, that...that sounds pretty far-fetched.”
“Jack Daniels?” One of the hospital staff by the name of Ruby Smith poked her head in through the glass door. Her lipstick had always been too bright for her face. “You’re good to go.”
“Great,” I muttered, pulling back the sheets. “I’ll change, then let’s go.”
It was only twenty minutes later when Brady and I were exiting the hospital building entirely. What really pissed me off was that I would have to return to work there the next day.
The weather was great outside. The sky was cloudless, and the sun was in the sky at a perfect angle. The temperature still climbed, but what would you expect in Boston? Sarge craned his neck to watch the early commute bustle about the sidewalks and streets. His jaw was slightly open, a pink tongue visible.
“Sarge sure likes movement,” I commented, staring down at his perked ears. “God. Never expected the guy to charge and attack like that. I mean, he’s saved me a couple of times, but he’s usually a damn coward in fights.”
“Well,” Brady yawned, exhaling. “He was probably irritated to start off with. You wouldn’t let him sleep in.”
Vision
There is a single bench, right next to the hospital. The wood is scratched and damaged, the steel polls holding it up are rusty from years of rain. Beside it, flowers bloom. Daffodils and tulips. Behind this bench is a street with a crosswalk.
There, of course, are no signs of people. There are no signs of traffic or any familiar faces. Just a bench.
Now
“Jack, man? Jack?”
I jolted for a moment, in shock, reeling in surprise. My lids were wide open, and I gazed in awe as the sights in front of me came to. Faces, places, streets. It all gradually took control again, as life pressed on. Feeling something wet on my hand, I looked down to see Sarge licking madly at my fingers like he was supposed to do. “Yeah, Brady. I’m here.”
“What was that? Some sort of seizure?”
“No,” I snapped, suddenly irritated. My instincts flared again, my heart pounding as it carried adrenaline to and from my brain. I had to get to that bench. It was just on the other side of the hospital. I didn’t know why or what the hell I was going to do after that. But the same thing happened with the crazed bitch who tried to stick one in me. I turned to Brady, who was nearly shedding his own skin. “Follow me.”
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